Okay, so I haven't posted since the first two items. Which is silly, when I think about it, since it is still easier at this point to type than to talk! (Evidence: Spellburn episode 28.) It's been nearly 2 weeks since we left Indianapolis, where we were singing, talking, yelling, hawking, and gaming - in that order - for 5 days straight (and, on my end, forgetting to eat for two of those days). I still feel rough around the edges. Con lag?

Gen Con reviews have been done. I'll let them lie as is, particularly with the latest Spellburn episode already hitting the web {because +Jim Wampler is amazing}. The best blog recap I've seen is this piece from +Edgar Johnson.

That said, there are a few tidbits I didn't prattle on about with the Judges J earlier...

Rather than prowling for gaming and chance interactions, this year it seemed that I was on the periphery of everyone else's awesome experiences. I was fortunate enough to witness some of the happiest (and even most personal) moments of some people's con. I found myself content to stand back and watch other people having a great time - not because I was spent (although the lack of food may have had some effect, in retrospect) - but because I needed to witness the glory that was 30-40 DCC RPG fans crammed together and interconnected in play while spread across 5 tables, whether they realized it at the time or not. I was in the right place at the right time to assist with the 3PP sales, thus being thrown into the instant camaraderie within the Goodman Games booth.

Truth be told, losing our FLGS and a dear friend (whom we'd expected to see at Gen Con) within the same week ripped the rug out from under me so badly... I needed to get my breath back, find my legs again, regain some steam and rejuvenate my enthusiasm level. Immersing myself within the DCC community - and being so heartily embraced by it in return - really did my soul good. And it's YOU that I have to thank for that.

(Stop looking around. You know I mean you. Whether you took time out to ask how I was doing, offered me food or coffee, or it took you a minute to realize I was "that Jen", you were exactly what I needed, and I hope your con experience was just as great.)

Side note: Holy crap, that first autograph request was humbling. "You mean you've never signed a CD?" came the response. Of course. But there's still a level of anonymity there. The listener takes home a disc and hears me (and others) do the same thing over and over. They may be able to pick my voice out of the group, but they don't progressively get to know me by way of a semimonthly recorded conversation where I don't get a second take if I flub a line. There's a weird level of intimacy, somehow. It's both thrilling and terrifying.

Cover (Kovacs, of course) for an upcoming release. My players may recognize parts from one of last year's playtests...

Now, on to current events...

A new friendly semi-local gaming store (still ~90 mi r/t) opened in Fort Myers, exactly 2 months to the day of 2D10's closing. Their major selling points are two private rooms, 400 and 500 sq ft each, and owners who are excited about us running open tables. We're going to start with the hubby's 1st Ed. D&D game for a couple of weekends so we can get used to the space, and I can try to catch up with everything [including real life crap] that's waiting on me. I pray to Sezrekan that I'm able to swing it with only minor corruption.

"The Chronicles of the Carnifex," as I've come to think of them, shall resume on September 28th.